


The One

by Abiwim



Category: Richard Armitage - Fandom, The Hobbit
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-07 02:01:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14070453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abiwim/pseuds/Abiwim
Summary: Marifur, sister to Bofur, is Thorin's One.Based on 2 prompts We can’t do that here & I don’t deserve to be loved





	The One

It was definitely dragon sickness. The desire for gold and the obsession with finding the Arkenstone had gotten to Thorin. Dwalin knew it, Balin knew it, hell all the dwarfs knew it.  
  
Marifur, sister to Bofur, and mistress of the axe was desolate. Throughout the quest she and Thorin had tried to deny their feelings for each other. But the horrors of Mirkwood had made them both realise that they had to take their opportunity.  
  
At this moment in time Thorin was slumped on his throne vehemently denying that anything was wrong. He sat up straight and pointed at Dwalin, shouting, "Am I not the king?"  
  
"You were always my king; you used to know that." Thorin was Dwalin's best friend. They trained together, fought together, got drunk together...  
  
Balin and Marifur were both in tears, trying to comfort each other. Thorin stood from his throne and stomped off.  
  
"Balin? Is there nothing to do?"  
  
"No lass. I've seen it before, I've not seen anyone come away from it."

Dwalin reached out for Marifur’s hand, “Come lass, let us join the others.”

The 3 dwarfs made their way to the battlements. Sorrowfully, they joined the rest of the company in watching the battle that raged beyond the doors of Erebor.

Kili was pacing back and forth, muttering under his breath. The dwarfs felt dishonoured and humiliated. Their kinsmen from the Iron Mountains were being laid to waste by Azog’s Orcs.

The forges were still burning deep within the mountain, the fire reflected around the entrance to Erebor, mist was swirling about everyone. Marifur noticed someone coming from within the mountain. ‘Thorin,’ she thought, her heart rising to her throat. What kind of mood would he present?

Before Thorin could reach the dwarfs Kili had bounded to him, “I will not hide behind a wall of stone while others fight our battle for us! It is not in my blood, Thorin!”

“No. It is not. We are sons of Durin and Durin’s folk do not flee from a fight.” Thorin pulled him into an embrace, forehead to forehead, before turning to the others. “I have no right to ask this of any of you but will you follow me, one last time?”

The dwarfs called out a cheer and prepared to join the battle.

****

The dwarfs of Erebor were celebrating the victory over Azog. The grand hall was full of humans, elves, dwarfs from the Iron Hills, 1 hobbit and 1 wizard. Thorin was sitting at the head of the table, Dwalin was to his left, Marifur to his right.

He stood and called everyone to order, “Ladies and Gentlemen! I would simply like to say that I am pleased to see you. May your dead find their way to the halls of their fathers.” He paused for a moment. “Bard, we, of course, will honour our promise of settlement and will aid, where we can, in the rebuilding of Dale. My Lord Thranduil,” Thorin bowed to the haughty elf, “you have been given the White Gems of Lasgalen and it is my great hope that the kingdoms of Erebor and the Woodland Realm shall remain friends for an age. Cousin Dain, we thank you for your aid and pledge our axes to you.” Thorin and Dain walked to each other and put their foreheads together. “And now, my fair Marifur and I will take our leave of you all. Please stay, feast and be merry!”

He turned to Marifur and held out his hand to her. She placed hers in his and rose gracefully. The guests all watched as they exited the room.

Thorin led his One to the Throne Room.

“Thorin, what are we doing here?”

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, “ **I don’t deserve to be loved** , especially by a dwarrowdam such as you.”

“Thorin, you are the strongest, best dwarf I have ever met. You are my One, how could I help but love you?”

Thorin lowered his face to his love and took her lips in a petal soft kiss. “ _Amrâlimê_ , promise you will never leave me…”

Marifur gazed into his deep blue eyes, they were full of torment and fear; she placed her hands on either side of his face, “Oh, Thorin my darling, I will never leave you.” Thorin clasped her even tighter and took her mouth. He ravaged her with his tongue and teeth, nipping at her neck and ears, his tongue following after to sooth the marks he left.

Marifur could not concentrate on anything but the way her king made her feel. His worship of her body filled her with a sense of power and lust.

Thorin shuffled Marifur backward, until she felt something hard behind her knees.  Thorin gave her a gentle shove so that she plopped into the seat. He knelt in front of the throne and started to lift her skirts.

Marifur was scandalized, “Thorin! **We can’t do that here!** ”

Thorin voice was muffled by her dress, “Am I not king?” He chuckled, “As such, I can fuck my One wherever I want!”

He returned his attention to Marifur’s legs. The sight of them made his cock twitch excitedly. He popped his head out from under the skirts, to see her with her head thrown back, her face flushed with excitement. He grinned and lifted the skirts even higher. He licked and sucked his way from the tops of her boots (‘so fucking sexy’) to her creamy thighs. He nipped at the back of her knee only to hear her suck in her breath.

“Don’t hold back, my love,” he wanted her to shout her love throughout Erebor’s halls. “Let it go, your sounds are beautiful.”

Thorin stuck his nose against her folds, leaning his cheek against her thigh, and breathed in deep. “Delicious, you smell like the earth, musky and clean.”

“Thorin, please,” she was squirming in the seat, trying to get her pussy closer to him. She hissed as Thorin swiped his tongue along her opening, barely touching. “Fuck!” She was clutching the arms of the throne, digging her nails in (Thorin would later find the gouges in the throne and smile whenever he ran his fingers over them.) He took hold of her hips and pulled her forward, then took one of her legs and bent it so that her foot was on the seat of the throne.

She moaned as he inserted one of his long, thick fingers into her vagina. He crooked his finger upon exit, scraping across her pleasure centre. Tiny mewling sounds were coming from her throat. “Yes, kitten, talk to me,” he growled.

“Th-Thorin!” She gasped as 2 fingers entered, he bent lower over her and flicked his tongue against her clit. “Like that!” He concentrated on her clit, his fingers were moving lazily inside her, slick with her wetness. He ran his tongue around her button, always changing his speed, going from licking to circling it. He thrust his 2 fingers in deep, and applied pressure to the outside edge of her anus.

She was nearing the edge of the precipice; he could feel her muscles tightening, her breath coming in hurried gasps. “Cum for me _Amrâlimê_ ,” he made sure to say the term of endearment over her clit, using the end of the word to close his lips around it and suck.

Marifur could hold back no longer, she shouted, “FUCK! Thorin! Mahal, just like that!” Her voice rung throughout the mountain.

Balin smiled, Dwalin groaned in exasperation, Bilbo was mortified and didn’t know where to look; while the majority of the dwarfs simply laughed, happy in the surety that their king was happy.

Thorin poked his head from under the skirts of her dress, grinning like he was the first to ever bring his One to completion. He sidled up and kissed between her breasts. She pulled him up her body, cradling him on her still propped up leg. She kissed him, tasting herself on his lips, in his mouth. She plunged her tongue in and laved at his.

When their passion was sated, Thorin took Marifur’s face in his hands and whispered, “Thank you, my queen.”


End file.
